


Shifting Perspectives

by Resmiranda



Category: Mass Effect
Genre: Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Angst with a Happy Ending, But is in a medically induced coma, Destroy Ending, Kaidan is tired, M/M, Mental Breakdown, POV Multiple, Post-Mass Effect 3, Shepard Survives
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-03-26
Updated: 2017-03-26
Packaged: 2018-10-10 20:58:24
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,177
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10447365
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Resmiranda/pseuds/Resmiranda
Summary: In the six months after the Reaper War, Earth and the galactic community are finally rebuilding. Rebuilding their cities. Rebuilding their lives.Rebuilding their hope.Except for the second human Spectre: his world is crumbling down.





	

**Author's Note:**

> I highly recommend giving [Call It What It Is](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=jYHqafjHvMI) by Sleeperstar a listen before you read. It gives you a glimpse of Kaidan's headspace.
> 
> A HUGE thank you to [potionsmaster](http://archiveofourown.org/users/potionsmaster/pseuds/potionsmaster) for inspiration, encouragement, betaing, and sumarizing! <3
> 
> Enjoy?

~~~~I~~~~

Kaidan stood up straight, trying to relieve the ache in his back. Everyone else had packed up some time ago. He wondered where the day had gone. Every damn one of them was too long and too short all at once. His muscles burned, he was covered in sweat and filth, and was dealing with his third nosebleed in as many days.

“Major Alenko!”

He squinted into the light of the setting sun, trying to make out the form of whoever had called him. The voice sounded vaguely familiar, but if he was being honest, it didn’t matter to him if he knew him or not. He just wanted to get listening to whatever he had to say out of the way, spend however much time he could with Shepard before visiting hours were over, and go home.

Lather. Rinse. Repeat.

Kaidan rubbed the tickling itch of a bead of sweat trailing down his temple with the back of one hand as the tall lanky form of some older cadet hustled over to him. The backlighting made it hard to tell, but he thought he might have talked to him before. His sandy hair looked vaguely familiar, in any case. Then again, most Alliance personnel seemed familiar in some way.

“Sir, Admiral Hackett would like to speak with you.” He sounded a little out of breath, a lot tired. Something like Kaidan felt.

He felt the telltale trickle exiting his nostrils and quickly swiped his index finger across it, following it up with a brush of his thumb, hoping he managed to wipe most of it away instead of just leaving a smeared mess. The metallic tang of it was strong in the back of his throat.

Kaidan couldn’t imagine what Hackett of all people wanted with him, but hadn’t quite sunk so low that he’d snub a superior officer, no matter how tired he was, or how much it cut into his scarce time with his partner.

“Lead the way… uh.” He realized, too late, his error, and awkwardly stopped speaking.

The marine looked confused, but didn’t hesitate to fill in, “Matthews.”

“Right. Sorry Matthews, I just…” Once again, he realized he didn’t have anything to say, so he simply shut his mouth.

Matthews apparently read something in his words, however, and picked up the meager conversation for him. “Yeah, I get it, sir. We’re all so tired it’s a miracle any of us remember our own names.”

Kaidan didn’t think Matthews seemed that tired, but nodded anyway.

They walked a few meters in silence, nothing but the crunch of rubble under worn boots and some distant laughter from the camp they were headed towards. It startled Kaidan when Matthews spoke again, but he was too tired to even flinch.

“Major Alenko. If I may… Can I ask how Commander Shepard is doing?”

Kaidan lifted his head and looked at the man beside him, then—really looked at him.

Recognition snapped into place, making him feel colossally stupid, and like an asshole, besides.

Cadet Matthews, ex-Cerberus soldier, former crewman of the Normandy SR-2, and recently accepted Alliance recruit. Acquaintance, if not friend, of Shepard’s, and someone Kaidan had spent a full two hours talking to in the hospital shortly after Shepard had been recovered from the rubble of the Citadel.

Something black and inky kicked up and churned in his stomach. It took Kaidan a minute to collect himself. “He’s uh… He’s about the same.” He swallowed hard against the lump trying to form in his throat. “Stable. Looks a hell of a lot better than when you last saw him.” Kaidan reconsidered his assumption. “Unless you have…? I don’t know if you were there sometime—”

“No,” Matthews cut in. “Just the once. It was… enough.”

Kaidan looked him over and saw what he wasn’t saying. He couldn’t take seeing the charred remains of such a great man fight for life. There were times when Kaidan didn’t want to see it, either. At least that part had gotten better. Shepard’s life wasn’t exactly in jeopardy anymore. It was just… everything else.

“He looks like him now,” was all he had to offer.

Silence.

“Maybe I’ll visit again, soon.”

“Yeah.”

Kaidan considered telling him that the doctors were finally considering ceasing the drugs keeping him in an induced coma now that the worst of his injuries had finally healed up. Maybe even as soon as next week. That whether they continued to have hope would hinge on if Shepard showed any changes in brain activity.

But that would mean admitting his fear that nothing would change. That Shepard would remain brain dead and there’d be no bringing him back this time. He knew himself well enough to know he’d be unable to keep his emotions in check, so he let the subject drop.

They made the rest of the journey lost in their own thoughts, by the time Kaidan saw the Mobile Command Center, he felt like each of his feet weighed ten kilos. Matthews gave him a salute and the shadow of a smile at the entrance. Kaidan nodded and him and slowly shambled up the ramp. He found Hackett immediately—the perfect posture and silver hair unmistakable, even from behind.

He took a deep breath and steeled himself, setting his shoulders straight and dragging up the dregs of his energy. He strode up to the admiral, snapping a sharp salute. “Admiral Hackett.” He waited till the man turned around to continue. “You wanted to see me, sir.”

“At ease, Major.” Kaidan assumed parade rest. Admiral Hackett sighed. “Alenko. _At ease._ ”

He hesitated a moment, but let the tension fall from his shoulders. He didn’t know why he even bothered with the show. He and Hackett knew each other better than that by now. Maybe it was because he felt that if he couldn’t put on the stiff facade of the military, he’d just fall apart.

Hackett scoffed. “Honestly, Alenko. The shit you’ve done, I should be saluting you. Speaking of what you’ve done…” He started walking toward the other side of the MCC and nodded his head for Kaidan to follow. They passed through an old-fashioned doorway, Hackett shutting them in with a dull _thud_.

A spike of anxiety shot down Kaidan’s core with the noise. He felt trapped. Like he had been dragged in by his superior for some punishment instead of a chat with someone he’d almost label a friend.

“Major, let me just cut to the point.” Kaidan braced himself for it. “You look like shit. I’m ordering you to take two week’s leave. No argument.”

An argument was poised on the tip of Kaidan’s tongue, but he bit it back, along with the desperation and anxiety surging up from his gut. He looked Hackett in the eyes for long moments before finally dropping them to the ground, breathing hard, closing them for just a beat, and re-engaging his superior.

“Is this about Shepard?”

The hard line of Hackett’s mouth dipped into a slight frown. Kaidan knew that the hospital staff reported directly to Hackett, and he would know about their plans to take him out of the coma.

“No,” he stated firmly. “Good timing, but I was planning this before I got word from the hospital. You’re working harder than any person out there, Alenko. At the rate you’re going, we’ll be adding you to the body count. We need people like you right now, Major. I’m not going to stand by and watch you kill yourself because it’s the only way you know how to cope. Which is why I’m also ordering you to see a psychologist while you’re on leave.”

Kaidan’s back snapped to ramrod straight at that, protests ready to fly, but at that moment Hackett shifted, and he caught his reflection in the old-fashioned security mirror behind Hackett’s desk. The admiral’s assessment had been dead on—he looked like shit. A fine layer of dirt covered every centimeter of visible skin—save for the paths rivulets of sweat had carved through the grime. The area between his nose and upper lips was rusty with the flaking remnants of blood.

He watched his resolve breaking in that mirror, and quickly turned back to Hackett before he shattered and left the man to pick up the pieces.

He knew, deep down, that what he was doing wasn’t healthy, and he needed to get a grip on it.

“Aye, aye, sir,” he acknowledged dejectedly.

A strong hand came down on his shoulder, its grip one of reassurance. “If anyone’s going to pull through, it’ll be Shepard.”

Kaidan looked into the pale blue of Hackett’s eyes, throat closed tight against the deep longing desire that he was looking into ocean blue instead. Formally, the Alliance couldn’t exactly endorse their relationship, but Hackett had made it clear he supported them on a personal level, and considering their hand in the salvation of the galaxy, no one was about to make a fuss, regardless of what they thought of it.

Of course, none of that would matter if John never woke up.

Kaidan just smiled tightly and muttered his thanks, antsy to leave. He checked the time on his omni-tool. If he hurried and didn’t stop for food, he could get a solid 40 minutes with Shepard before the hospital staff—well, _Chakwas_ —kicked him out.

He had only taken one step when his knee gave out, landing on it hard before he was able to recover and drag himself back up. For the first time he noticed how weak he felt. When was the last time he had eaten? He was a little unnerved to find he couldn’t remember. Usually he was so careful about taking breaks, replenishing the calories he was blazing through from constant usage of his biotics, and generally aware of his physical limits. He hadn’t felt this overtaxed since brain camp, and that scared him.

Hackett was frowning, but he didn’t ask any obvious questions he already knew the answer to. Instead he walked over to a supply cabinet, pulled out a tube of frosting and two protein bars, and handed them to him pointedly.

Kaidan offered a sobered, “Thank you, sir,” and popped the top off the frosting immediately, squeezing a dollop onto his tongue and letting it dissolve. He made sure to push some under his tongue for faster absorption, too. Hackett nodded his approval and made to open the door.

“Take your time, Major. You’re welcome to stay in here as long as you like.”

Kaidan shook his head. “I’m grateful, sir, but I need to be going.” Hackett nodded once, understanding, if displeased.

“Say hi to Shepard for me.”

Kaidan repressed the sigh that wanted to be released. “Wilco, sir.”

****

The shuttle was late to the hospital due to unstable rubble collapsing along its normal route. Kaidan couldn’t scrape up the energy to care. It was just one more item on a long list of “Shit Gone Wrong” post-apocalypse. By the time he walked into Shepard’s room, he barely had a half hour to spend with him. At least it was something.

He let the heavy breath he’d been holding back escape as soon as he sank into his chair. He realized only after he had settled that someone had moved it away from the bed and not replaced it like they usually did for him. He stared at the scarce meter of distance separating him from John’s fingers, his exhaustion stretching the distance into the feeling it was kilometers instead.

He considered just staying where he was. Shepard wouldn’t know the difference. Eventually he gave into the tug he felt on his heartstrings, dragging the chair closer, gently taking John’s cold and withered hand, and bringing it to his lips in familiar ritual. That’s what this was, after all. As a career soldier, Kaidan found comfort in routine. In the aftermath of the war, more than ever, he needed that stability. And he needed Shepard.

Even if every day he saw him like this slowly chipping away his resolve and his sanity.

He could almost laugh at himself. He knew Shepard wouldn’t approve of this. But he couldn’t just walk away either. Not as long as there was hope he would wake again—no matter how small that hope shrank.

“Hey, John.”

Kaidan cleared his throat, still gritty and dry from the protein bars.

“Hackett says hi, too. I, uh… I really got chewed out by him today. Well, that’s actually pretty dramatic. He’s concerned. It just kind of shocked me, you know? I guess I’m a little too good at distracting myself.”

He let out a hollow chuckle. “I didn’t even notice the mess I’ve turned into.”

His throat tightened in a sensation that had become all too familiar to him. His eyes burned but didn’t water. He didn’t think he could cry if he wanted to. “He’s ordered me to two week’s leave and a psych eval, or something like that. Guess that means you’re going to be seeing a lot more of me, eh?”

He closed his eyes and pressed Shepard’s limp hand to his forehead, careful not to tug on any of the IVs. “I can be here when you wa—” His voice broke and he couldn’t continue. He pressed Shepard’s hand to his head more firmly, eyes squeezed tight and breathing shallow while he composed himself. “When they take you off the drugs,” he croaked out.

“I’ll be here so…” his voice dropped to a whisper, “ _please_.”

“Kaidan?”

~~~~II~~~~

Karin was just on her way to see if the VI in Shepard’s bed had properly turned him to prevent the development of bedsores when she saw a figure slip into the room.

It took her one terrifying heartbeat to realize the security protocols hadn’t failed—it was Kaidan.

Karin watched Kaidan as he crossed the threshold of the commander’s room. It was as if there was some security field blanketing the doorway, stripping the man of all his bravado and optimism the second he stepped through it. The rigid posture of a soldier slumped and his movements went from brisk to sluggish.

She watched as he collapsed into the bedside chair, and gave a thousand-yard stare to Shepard’s still form. She glanced at her omni-tool, surprised to find it as late as it was. He was much later than usual. Something critical must have come up for him to sacrifice his visiting time. She looked him over carefully as he slowly rose and dragged the chair closer. No visible injuries. And he had been moving fine before he entered the room. Knowing Kaidan, however, that didn’t necessarily mean much. He’d come into her med bay more than once looking fit as a fiddle and asking to be treated for multiple gunshot wounds.

She almost chuckled at the memories. The two of them were quite a pair. Neither one knew the meaning of the word ‘fine,’ though the way they had fawned over every scratch the other acquired back on the Normandy would have suggested otherwise. Concerned for everyone except themselves, those two.

It was part of what made them incredible soldiers. Incredible men, really. It was certainly part of why Karin had followed the commander wherever he went, even when it meant getting into bed with a known terrorist organization.

And it was part of what was killing Kaidan, now, she was sure.

The man that sat crouched over the edge of the hospital bed was nearly unrecognizable from the handsome man she’d served with not more than half a year ago. He was as fit as ever, and yet there was something deflated about him. Like his spirit had become as emaciated as Shepard’s body.

He’d yet to notice Karin’s presence. She frowned slightly to herself. The glass hid nothing and, once, there had been a time when, without fail, Kaidan had zoned in on her presence with the kind of practiced experience of someone worthy of holding the title “Spectre.” Perhaps three months in, he started to lose that keen observation. It was clear that his preoccupation grew the longer Shepard slept.

It broke her heart, but she understood it. Shepard was their immoveable center, after all. When your center was set teetering, where could one find solid ground?

Karin drew closer to the room, and checked her omni-tool again. She had big news to inform Kaidan of, but she didn’t want to interrupt, either. Something raw in her own heart cracked open when she saw him gingerly grasp the commander’s fingers and bring them to his mouth in the gentlest of kisses. Like Shepard would shatter if he made a wrong move. To have someone love you that way…

Well, there was no use thinking like that. She was happy with her life. She really couldn’t ask for anything more without being selfish.

She checked her time display one more time. Visiting hours we almost over, and she suspected Kaidan would need a few minutes to process her news. As much as she hated interrupting, she was running out of time.

He was speaking to Shepard now. The hand he cradled to his head blocked most of his face, but she could see his lips moving. She called up her access code and opened the door. Kaidan didn’t seem to notice. His shoulders quaked. She understood why almost immediately when Kaidan opened his mouth again.

“I can be here when you wa—” His voice rose like he was re-experiencing puberty and his handsome face scrunched in pain. In all her time attending to him as a medic, she’d rarely seen that expression. She waited for the man’s breathing to even, not wanting to surprise him in this vulnerable moment. She had seen them all before and would see them all again, but soldiers were so touchy when it came to displays of emotion. Even the most well-adjusted ones.

Usually she’d place Kaidan in that category, but now…

“When they take you off the drugs.”

Now he sounded like a man left on a desert world for three days without water.

She rapped her knuckles on the side of the doorway quickly before she lost her window.

“Kaidan?”

The man that looked up at her was so familiar, yet so far from the man she knew. Much like the other man in the room. Karin wanted to sigh and shake her head and how troublesome the two of them had ended up being for her. Instead, she got to business.

“Hey, Doc,” Kaidan greeted softly, wearily. She couldn’t help the frown it caused her. She paused by his chair and studied him a moment before pulling up one of her own.

“Are you feeling alright, Kaidan?”

Kaidan glanced up at her from weary lids. She saw him contemplate the lie, and silently dared him to try.

He drew in a long breath, and let out one twice as long. He removed his hand from where he’d carefully laid Shepard’s on the bed and rubbed at his face, grimacing when rolls of grime clung to his fingers. It must have been an especially bad day if he hadn’t even taken the time to freshen up.

“Would you believe me if I said I don’t know anymore?” A soft, forced sounding laugh burst from his throat. “I thought I was doing alright, but… I think I’ve been lying to myself.”

Karin reached out and placed a hand firmly on his forearm, not at all deterred by the matted hair. “I think that’s the most honest thing anyone has said to me in ages.”

Kaidan’s laugh was a little more genuine this time.

“Listen, Kaidan.” The major’s expression instantly sobered once more and he leaned in towards her, just a little. “About the commander. The timetable for taking him out of the coma has been moved up. We’ll be taking him off the medications on Friday.”

Kaidan sat up in his chair, looking for all the world like a child in the sights of a Reaper. She pressed her lips together tightly. She had hoped this would be good news for the man, but couldn’t say his reaction was entirely unexpected. Many loved ones of induced coma patients reacted with a similar fear. It was the ultimate test, after all.

She squeezed Kaidan’s arm. “His chances are good, Kaidan. His vitals are stable, the cybernetics have responded well to therapy, his wounds have healed cleanly. He’s weak, and we can’t be sure, but every indication is trending towards the positive.”

Kaidan briefly bit his lip, nodded. She watched his Adam’s apple bob as he swallowed. She readjusted herself so she could reach Kaidan’s hand, grasped it, her own throat constricting too tightly for words. Everything they could have said was shared in a look.

Kaidan broke eye contact first, eyes drawn back to Shepard, like they always were. “Thank you,” he whispered hoarsely.

Karin nodded, gave his hand a pat before standing up once more. She checked the time. “Visiting hours are over in about five minutes, but I’m going to go check on a few other patients. It might take me a while.”

A blank gaze met her words. She waited. The light stuttered on behind whiskey eyes, and she was rewarded with the smallest of smiles.

“Thanks, Dr. Chakwas.”

“Thanks?” she parroted breezily. “For what?” She walked straight out of the room, hiding her own private smile.

~~~~III~~~~

“Where is it?” Maleah muttered to herself as she tried to find the micro-press filter. She could have sworn she put it in this drawer yesterday. Maybe one of her coworkers moved it?

She straightened just in time to see Spectre Alenko headed her way. She immediately brightened, though her enthusiasm dull when she noticed how ill he appeared. His skin was pale and hugged the fine angles of his face too tightly. She frowned to herself.

The first time Maleah saw Spectre Alenko walking toward her coffee bar, she nearly screamed. She was able to cut it off into an embarrassing squeak. She chewed on the side of her cheek the entire time he was in front of her, convinced if she stopped for even a moment she would ceaselessly gush and make things awkward for both of them.

He had been a complete gentleman—kind and courteous—just like all the vids suggested. Handsome, too. Even more so in person.

It didn’t take long for her to figure out why he was suddenly frequenting the hospital, but it wasn’t until maybe the second month of his patronage that she started noticing a change in him. He began coming in later, with shadows under his eyes and a thinness to his face she didn’t remember. Looking at old pics and vids told her she wasn’t going crazy—the Spectre had definitely changed.

It continued getting worse over the weeks and months that followed. The changes were never so drastic that she saw a difference day to day, but when she hadn’t seen him in a couple of days, sometimes it would just hit her that he wasn’t the same man she first met.

She had been a little worried when she hadn’t seen him in several weeks—and what she saw now was doing nothing to allay her concern. He wasn’t even looking up this morning. He usually made a point of greeting her, even on his most preoccupied days. It looked like he hadn’t had a haircut in some time, either. Haphazard curls were beginning to frame his face in a way that would have been attractive if his face itself weren’t so sickly. At least he was still shaving. That was a sign that he hadn’t given up on personal appearance entirely.

“Morning, Spectre Alenko!”

The Spectre’s eyes finally snapped up from the floor. It was like he was surprised by the presence of another person. Or maybe he was just surprised to see her. He used to know what days she worked, but was well aware he had bigger things on his mind than when her shifts fell.

“Maleah, hey.” He attempted a smile, but it fell flat. “How have you been?”

“Not bad.” She shrugged one shoulder. She’d actually had a fight with her girlfriend that morning, but with Spectre Alenko right in front of her—looking like he’d lost the war instead of won it—she didn’t feel like she could complain. “I haven’t seen you in while,” she pointed out in the most casual air she could manage. “Been busy?”

The Spectre barked a laugh and ran a hand through his hair, eyes flitting over the menu over her head. “Yeah, you could say that. Do you still have chocolate syrup?”

“Feeling like a mocha again? Yeah, the small supply we got has gone quickly, but I still have a little.” She might have saved a little just for him, but he didn’t need to know that. She grabbed a cup, then paused. “Medium?”

“Please,” he confirmed, activating his omni-tool to transfer the necessary credits. Maleah walked over to the machine, carefully selecting buttons, letting the machine make quick work of the brew and returning to the Spectre with his drink. He grabbed it and began walking away. Maleah frowned at his retreating back.

“Have a good day, sir!” she called after him.

The man stopped rather suddenly and turned around. “Sorry, Maleah. I didn’t mean to just walk away like that. Just… Just a lot on my mind. I hope you have a good day, too.”

“No worries, sir.” She smiled at him, feeling a little guilty. She didn’t mean to make him feel bad. “I hope you enjoy the coffee.”

He didn’t even try to return the smile this time, just nodded and continued on, though instead of leaving immediately like he usually did, this time he sat down with a… a turian? That wasn’t something she saw every day. And working in a place like this, she saw quite a bit.

She put aside her curiosity and renewed her search for the micro-press filter, finally finding it in the cabinet above the sink. She was going to be having a long talk with… whichever one of her coworkers put it up there.

Maleah chanced a glance over at Spectre Alenko’s table, and was alarmed to find him red-faced and wiping his eyes, as the turian leaned over the table and flicked his mandibles at him. Was the alien threatening Alenko? No. No, there was nothing guarded in the Spectre’s posture. Just… Her blood ran cold.

Just defeat.

She checked the area hurriedly to make sure no customers were headed her way before she ran an extranet search for recent news on John Shepard. Her anxiety eased only minutely when nothing immediately came up announcing his death. Something like that wouldn’t stay quiet long, but Spectre Alenko would certainly be the first to know. What if—

No. She needed to stop thinking like that. Besides, she doubted Spectre Alenko would be down here, having a coffee in the lobby if that were the case. Still, no matter how worn the Spectre had become, she’d never seen him so much as look glassy-eyed.

Maleah said a quick prayer that both the commander and his partner would be alright.

~~~~IV~~~~

Garrus had to admit to himself, he was impressed.

Initially, when he had heard that Shepard was going to be taken to a hospital in Vancouver on Earth, one of the first places hit by the Reapers, Garrus had balked. Turned out that the cities that were hit earlier on ended up being the safest places the planet had to offer, once the husks were dealt with.

The hospital Shepard was being kept in was like a Prothean ruin rising from the remains of a forgotten world. It was surrounded by heaps of rubble on either side, but the most damage the building had seen were some cosmetic scratches here and there.

The inside was much like every other hospital he’d seen, but it came in the flavor of post-war chaos, makeshift beds and IV’s still lining the hallways even six terra-months later.

He followed the faint memory of how to get to Shepard’s room. Lonely elevator ride, turn left, three hallways down, turn right, enter central reception area, check in with receptionist, continue to other side of the room, down the far right hallway, last door on the left—which hissed open just as he came up to it, nearly colliding with the human that was walking out.

“Garrus! What are you doing here?”

It took Garrus an embarrassingly long couple of seconds to recognize the human in front of him. He’d never admit it, but most of them still looked alike to him, save for the ones he knew well.

He knew this one well, he just didn’t remember him looking this… pale? Shitty? Something was definitely off with his face, but human faces could do so much with their movements and colors, it was far too complicated for him to read the subtleties.

“What? The galaxy is almost destroyed and suddenly people don’t have time for a simple ‘hello’?”

Kaidan let out a heavy sigh.

Garrus’s mandibles twitched. That wasn’t the reaction he’d been going for.

Kaidan rubbed his forehead with the back of his hand. “Sorry, Garrus, just… a lot on my mind.”

Garrus glanced over his friend’s shoulder into the room where Shepard lay, still as stone. He made up his mind quickly.

“Say, why don’t we go get something to drink and catch up. It’s been far too long.” He set one hand on Kaidan’s shoulder, ready to steer him down the hallway.

“But didn’t you—”

“I get the feeling you could use a shoulder more than Shepard right now. Plus, he’d kick my ass if he knew I ignored you in favor of sitting with his unconscious ass when you clearly are in need of an old fashioned turian pep talk.”

Kaidan huffed a dry laugh. “Don’t you mean ‘ass kicking’? I think I’ve had enough of those, thanks.”

Garrus used his grip to give Kaidan a nudge in the right direction. “What is it you humans say? ‘Tomato, tomato’?”

“Well, sort of, but the whole point is how you pronounce—You know what. Never mind. How about we go get something to drink from the stand by the entrance? I’m pretty sure they have some dextro stuff.”

“Fine by me. And don’t worry, I’ll go easy on you. Wouldn’t want the first thing the commander does when he wakes up to be chew me out for messing up his boyfriend’s pretty face.”

Garrus felt Kaidan’s muscles tense under his hand and he mentally kicked himself. Apparently mentioning Shepard was on the blacklist. That could make discussion a little difficult.

“I didn’t expect anyone to come,” Kaidan offered quietly after a minute trudging through the hallways in silence.

Fuck it. They were going to talk about Shepard.

“Well, I figured if it were me, he’d probably be there if he could. I mean, I’m not you, so I doubt he’d be back at my side every chance he got, but for something like this? Yeah, he’d be there. He’s a good friend.”

Kaidan’s voice came out strained. “Yeah. The best.”

Garrus surreptitiously glanced down at the man walking beside him. He looked so… small and fragile. Humans always did to him when they were out of armor, but… no. This was something else. Despite the soft exterior, humans like Shepard and Alenko always carried themselves with pride. They made up for their lack of outer strength with inner. He knew how easy humans could break, but Alenko had always been one of the ones he could believe had steel running through his core.

But now… Now he seemed… wilted. Like one of those sad little shriveled plants in Anderson’s apartment that didn’t have a VI to water them. Garrus had pitied them, just a little.

He didn’t like that he was comparing Alenko to them.

Kaidan made a sharp left just before the hallway leading to the main entrance, and Garrus followed him automatically.  A small café Garrus hadn’t even known existed was tucked into the corner.

It was little more than a countertop and some machinery, but there were a few scattered tables and chairs making it a welcoming enough spot. He turned down Kaidan’s offer to buy him something and merely observed as he traded a tired smile and a few short pleasantries with the human female barista. She seemed familiar with him. Garrus got the sense Kaidan was a regular. He guessed he was more than a familiar face from the news vids to many of the staff here.

When he returned, Garrus let him settle and take a sip of that coffee humans seemed to like to much in silence. Kaidan’s face looked bad—even by human standards. His eyes were sunken and deep lines carved his face. Actually, he looked a lot like Shepard right before the end of the war—which couldn’t be a good sign.

“Ready for that pep talk?”

“Ha!” Kaidan quickly bit his lips after the abrupt exclamation, staring off to the side at… a potted plant? Garrus could have found humor in the coincidence if Kaidan’s face wasn’t turning red. Although he was somewhat amused by human faces and their variety of colors, there was nothing funny about the pain in Alenko’s face. He might not have been the greatest at human expressions, but he had no problem recognizing that one.

His blood began pumping double-time. Damn. He never knew what to say in situations like these. ‘There, there’ probably wouldn’t cut it.

Kaidan covered his face with one hand and his shoulders shook.

Shepard or Liara, maybe even Tali would have put a hand on his shoulder, he was sure. He and Kaidan weren’t quite close enough for that, though, and it wasn’t like he was the touchy-feely type to begin with. He probably wouldn’t appreciate a krogan-style head-butt, either.

He went with the only thing he knew.

“Damn, Kaidan, I didn’t even start the pep talk yet.”

Kaidan gave a wet strangled sort of sound that he thought might have been a laugh, but he kept his eyes hidden. He took a few stuttering breaths in and hard exhales out. He froze for a few beats, then straightened, wiped his eyes, and faced him, looking worse than before.

“Sorry, Garrus,” Kaidan’s voice was raspy. “I didn’t mean to lose it on you. I just… Never mind. You came here for Shepard not for… not for this.” He waved a hand, indicating himself.

Garrus snorted at that. “I’m going to have to disagree with you there, Alenko. I came here for my friends. Plural. Unless you’re telling me after everything that you don’t want to be my friend anymore.”

Kaidan’s eyebrows shot straight up and he seemed genuinely speechless for a long moment.

“We’re… friends?”

Garrus’s mandibles flared before he could control the reaction.

“Is this a joke?”

The man quickly shook his head and held his hands up in surrender. “No, sorry, that came out wrong.” He sighed and looked down into his coffee, gripping it with both hands. “I think of you as a friend, Garrus. I have since the SR-1. I just… wasn’t sure the feeling was mutual,” he shyly admitted.

Garrus’s mandibles twitched in disbelief. He was ready to give him a piece of his mind when he saw that sad little houseplant in the slump of Kaidan’s form, and he closed his mouth. He could be indignant later. Right now his friend needed a friend.

“Kaidan, can I ask you something?”

Kaidan took a long drink of coffee and nodded without meeting his eyes.

“Why are you acting like you’ve already lost Shepard?”

Kaidan’s head snapped up, eyes wide. He opened his mouth, then shut it, then opened it again. He looked like one of Shepard’s fish. Garrus waited until he got it together—though getting it together looked a lot like breaking down.

Tears leaked down Alenko’s face, and this time he made no attempt to hide them.

“You know you’re the second person to ask me that today?” He chuckled dryly and brushed the moisture away with his thumb. “And you know what? You’re both fucking right.” He ground the words out as another tear spilled down his cheek. “I’m so afraid of losing him again that I’ve already given up hope. Like that will make it any better!” The chuckle he forced out had a hysterical edge. “What will John say if he wakes up today and sees me like this? I’m a wreck. What if I’ve waited all this time and he just wants to break up? What if he doesn’t even remember me? Fuck, I just—” He scrubbed both palms over his eyes and Garrus looked on, speechless.

Alenko was always so reserved. Obviously passionate, but very personal. To have him spill his guts like this… Garrus was honored, but he also had no idea what to do with it.

Well, he did promise a pep talk, didn’t he?

“Kaidan.”

His friend was able to pull himself out of his head enough to look at him.

“You and Shepard have been through hell. Not every relationship comes through that clean. Sometimes other obligations get in the way, like with Tali and me. But you and Shepard… You have something special. I watched both of you on the SR-1.” Garrus scratched at his scarred cheek. “We, uh, never told you guys this, but the old crew had a betting pool going back then.”

“On me and Shepard?” Kaidan cut in.

“Yeah,” Garrus chuckled. “No one was very serious about it. It was just a way to pass the time, but the point is, it was obvious you had something, even back then. And after everything that happened in the last year… Hell, if Shepard doesn’t remember you, I’ll shake him until he does.”

“I don’t think that’s how it works Garrus.” Kaidan sounded tired, but less agonized. He’d stopped crying, at least.

Garrus ignored his snide remark and went on. “What I’m trying to say is that you’re not alone in this. I can’t imagine Shepard forgetting you. And as long as he remembers you, trust me, he won’t leave you behind no matter how pathetic you are.”

“Wow, Garrus, you sure know how to cheer a guy up.”

“Oh, you know us turians. We’re known for our sunny dispositions and funny jokes.” Garrus leaned on the table dropping the flippant demeanor and making eye contact. “But even if he doesn’t remember you, or spirits forbid it, he doesn’t wake up—I’ll be here for you Kaidan. I mean, I might be on Palaven, or—well, you know what I mean.”

Kaidan’s eyes dropped back down as soon as Garrus finished speaking. He absentmindedly swirled the coffee with one hand while staring into it, like if he stared long enough it would give him some insight.

When he lifted his head again, his eyes seemed a little clearer.

“Thanks, Garrus. I’m glad I have a friend right now. I need one.”

“Any time. Why don’t we go see if Shepard is ready to wake up yet, hm?” He rose and pushed back his chair, Alenko reluctantly following his lead.

“Say, have you tried shouting ‘Reaper invasion’ in his ear?”

~~~~V~~~~

The most lovely music was playing.

He felt like he had heard it before. He tried to remember, but found it was like trying to hold water in his palm. The moment he thought he had something, it all trickled away. He just sensed there had been music before, maybe. It didn’t matter now.

What was important was that the music was currently here, and he did his best to focus on it, though that, too, was hard. The best he could do was float and be surrounded by the low and gentle melody. It filled him to bursting with the sweetest emotions, so full he ached. He wished he could be with the music, as the music was with him, but it remained distant, even as it was his entire world. Every time he tried to respond to the song, nothing happened.

An edge of something sour was creeping in the harder he tried. At first, it was natural, to passively be here, experiencing whatever came along, unable to react or produce anything. But now it was beginning to be unpleasant. The song just as sweet, but the yearning to reciprocate building into something unbearable.

The music stopped and his world stopped with it.

He sensed things would lose their color and the feelings would fade, like maybe this had happened before, but if it had, this time was different. Nothing dimmed. It was getting worse. More intense. But it was silent, and now the atmosphere was poisoned. The space the song had filled was empty and it made everything wrong and intimidating. He did not want to go to a place without song, but it seemed whatever forces were in play would not be stopped.

The light grew brighter and pain, sharper and larger than the ache the song gave him, began to throb through his environment, the boundaries of the pain giving him form.

Something about this was familiar, yet he had no words to explain how or why. He only knew he did not want this. He stubbornly dug in and fought the draw. He would not go to this bright and empty place where no sweetness and no beauty existed. Everything was white, void, pain—

Two glorious notes broke the air.

Peace washed over him even as the pain grew stronger, more concrete. Something about the song was closer now, clearer. He felt strongly that the song was saying something to him, but he could not yet tell what. Everything was… blurry. That was new. Before nothing had been clear, but neither had it been smeared, as it was now.

He felt a tightness toward his top, heard a steady beat out of rhythm with the song… which was definitely saying something to him now. He knew this song. Knew who made it. He wanted to see who made it.

He blinked, trying to clear the fog. The song changed keys—something high and questioning and frantic in the notes. A blur of black and tan and blue was in front of him. His heart leapt. He tried to move his lips, but they only parted, unwilling to cooperate further. A hot prick against his cheek startled him, but things were clearing, and he ignored it in favor of tuning his entire being to the voice speaking to him.

His chest swelled. He knew this man.

Everything cleared.

“Shepard,” Kaidan, handsome and perfect in his mess of tears, choked.

He couldn’t move yet, couldn’t speak, couldn’t articulate it to Kaidan, but John knew.

Everything was going to be okay.

**Author's Note:**

> I'm working on a continuation in this verse. We'll see if I finish it one day. This can stand alone, regardless.
> 
> Feel free to talk to me here or on my [Tumblr](http://resmiranda13.tumblr.com/)!


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